|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 13, 2008 23:38:54 GMT -5
Wraith awakens screaming during the night. Her dreams were plagued by unspeakable night terrors, of what she feared may be her gruesome demise. Her blankets cast aside by her fitful tossing, she sits huddled on the mattress, her thin arms wrapped around her knees, rocking herself back and forth, until the last of her sobs dies on trembling lips.
Vacant, stricken eyes stare ahead, locked upon the terrifying visitations, dancing upon the precipice of memory.
She dreamed they'd captured her, tortured her. She didn't even see who they were; swathed in robes, deep hoods and horrific masks, their identities were concealed, even from meach other. They thrust the mantle of her legacy upon her; veil of blackest night, and a corona of barbed wire, tipped with bloodied thorns thicker than a man's thumb. They staked her spread-eagled to the infernal diagrams carved into the tabernacle, and cut her; draining her blood into cups from which they drank so greedily.
But since only the blood of a virgin would suffice, they gave back what was taken, only to plunder her body again. She was surely ruined, in heart, mind, body and soul by the time they left her to bleed out into Oblivion, and face the Mantle's torments...
The rest, mercifully, Wraith could not remember. Her mind recoiled in horror from these poisonous revelations. Not that it made much difference. She rationalised these shades that visited her in the pale hours before dawn were just that; echoes of her own fear made manifest. Surely they couldn't harm her? Surely they were nothing more than the darkness within, screaming at her?
Clutching the sacred cadeceus that dangled from a leather cord between her pendulous breasts, Wraith sought solace in prayer. The song that follows is a lachrymose supplication to her God, Apollo; a plaintive cry for forgiveness and succor from the Darkness ahead, when she should be seeking that forgiveness and strength within herself...
|
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 14, 2008 0:18:08 GMT -5
Only waking slightly to the sound of Wraith's scream. It takes him a few moments to realize where he is and that it is Wraith crying in the room. Not another one of the victims that he lead to his infernal masters. Quickly rushing to Wraith's side, Hilathic awkwardly puts an arm around her and holds her until the tears begin to slow. Even though he had been around carnal pleasures his entire life, he had never been close to a woman. Never seem a softer side, that was frail and vulnerable.
Hilathic's hold on Wraith was stiff and not very comforting, yet he tried. A quick look over at Aerin's showed the boy still slept even with the noise in the room. Hilathic quietly held Wraith for sometime, allowing the horrors of her nightmare to pass. This was not her world, maybe he should not rick bringing her into it. Not risk bringing Aerin into that world, but there seemed no other choice. The threat of the cult was very real to Wraith and Aerin and there where may unseen dangers to her as well.
The large cloak Hilathic had been wearing sat draped over the chair he had been sleeping in, and now that Wraith was becoming more compased he became keenly aware of the quivering female flesh in his arms and against his skin. Clothing was restrictive and got in the way for most things, but now Hilathic wished for something more between them, then Wraith's slim nightie.
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 14, 2008 1:50:17 GMT -5
Sobbing pitifully, Wraith releases her hold on the caduceus, and seeks the contours of Hilathic's neck and face instead. Whereas he seems hesitant, awkward even, she clings to him tightly, because he is the only solid anchor she has in this bleak, shadowy reality. Her fingers are cold and shaky, tipped with very sharp ebony nails that come a bit too close to scratching his cheek and scalp. Her breath escapes her lips in sharp, ragged puffs, feathering the side of his neck, where the blood converges, pulsing rapidly beneath his skin.
Taken by the horror of her dreams, she moves closer to him, seeking his warmth, and the familiarity of living flesh she'd long since gone cold to. Her need is so great that she's completely oblivious to his discomfort, and the way her closeness makes him feel. Though her dry fingers are like ice, no doubt a side effect of embalming the dead, the rest of her is warm and soft; modest feminine curves, and the bony jut of her hips and lower ribs, caressed by the folds of her thin nightgown.
Wrapping her arms tightly around Hilathic's neck, she trembles like a leaf caught in the wind, and nuzzles him beneath his chin; allowing her tears fall onto his skin.
After a while, her tears slow to an amber trickle, and dry upon her pale cheeks. Lifting her tearstained face to gaze deeply into Hilathic's eyes, Wraith strokes his pale cheek with trembling fingers. "I don't know why, I can't explain it, but I trust you. Even though I barely know you, and reason dictates I should be wary of you, it's still there. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone before. I know you'll protect me, and guide me toward what's right." She whispers, tilting her head back slightly, and moves imperceptibly closer to him. Both her pale lips, and the silver labret stud glisten in the failing fire-light. Her hand at the nape of his neck spasms then, tightening its grip.
|
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 14, 2008 14:36:22 GMT -5
Hilathic can not hide the desire his body has for Wraith, but his wits are not dulled enough by his sleepiness to make the mistake of changing the relationship between he and Wraith. Looking into Wraith's purple eyes with a returned longing, Hilathic speaks, "Aerin will be awake soon."
Yet he does not let go his hold upon Wraith, waiting and hoping she will be the one to come to her senses first and release him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 14, 2008 21:50:32 GMT -5
Wraith blinks once, rapidly, and realises what she'd come so close to doing. She blushes in mortification, deeply ashamed of herself and how easy it was that she could fall prey to the calling of the flesh. Desire was such a dangerous thing. It could be used as a weapon against her, to dull her wits, strengthen her dependencies, and lull her into a false sense of security and comfort. She'd seen first hand what desire did to her adoptive mother, and numerous others who called kip with the Sensates. The same thing had also destroyed her.
Wraith releases her hold of Hilathic. It felt too good to remain in his arms like this, with so little separating them. It was better she ended this now before she was tempted to do something she'd regret. Even the fleeting moment of joy caused by human contact wasn't worth destroying the rapport she felt they already had.
"I'm so sorry, Hal. I don't know what came over me." She whispers, averting her face in shame, and moves away from the bed; anything to put distance between them and the way that closeness made her feel. She was shaking - nay, resonating - and it wasn't from fear anymore.
"You must think me a terrible woman, a temptress no less." She murmurs ruefully, and sinks to her knees before the fireplace. That wasn't what she wanted him to think of her as, because she wasn't that at all.
Aerin snores softly in the bed furthest from the window, but Hilathic was right; he'd awaken soon enough. Morning was only a scant couple hours away.
Wraith raises a shaky hand to her temples, feeling her flesh for the slightest sign of fever. But her skin was cool to the touch. "I'm so sorry, Hal. Please forgive me." She stares into the flames for a long moment, watching them pop and spit, releasing sparks into the air; and imagined that her need was one of the flames, nay, one of the cinders released from the burning log it was bound to. Taking deep breaths, she remains there until she composes herself once more.
|
|
|
|
Post by Stix on May 18, 2008 15:51:16 GMT -5
There is a succession of five rapid knocks at the door. "Is everyone alright?" comes a young man's voice from without.
|
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 19, 2008 18:17:41 GMT -5
Hilathic's body tenses at the rapping at the door, "Do you know that voice?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 19, 2008 20:43:08 GMT -5
Wraith glances from Hilathic to the door, and back again. "No." She whispers, rising to her feet and approaches the door, but hangs back a few steps to call out. "Everything's fine, basher. We're fine in here, thankyou." She turns away from the door, retreating back to the fireplace. Her stomach growls in protest, and she remembers; I didn't have any dinner last night... No wonder I'm so sodding hungry.
"Actually, basher, if Bertram's awake, could you please inform him we'll be downstairs shortly for an early breakfast?" She frowns, unsure if the voice belonged to one of the employees, or one of the patrons disturbed by the noise. If the latter was the case, she would've made herself look like a fool, and likely offend the young man in the process.
|
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 22, 2008 23:52:51 GMT -5
Getting up and putting on the overly large cloak as he hears Aerin begin to stir, Hilathic takes up a defensive position behind the door in case there is any type of forced entry attempted. Winking to Aerin as he lifts his head to look and see what is going on in the room, Aerin smiles broadly to him, reassured that everything was alright despite the noise.
|
|
|
|
Post by Stix on May 23, 2008 13:08:34 GMT -5
"...We won't have the kitchen open for another couple of hours," the voice says apologetically.
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 24, 2008 4:22:23 GMT -5
" ...We won't have the kitchen open for another couple of hours," the voice says apologetically. Wraith calls to the man on the other side of the door, and sighs in relief; good, at least he worked here and wasn't a disgruntled patron. Seeing Hilathic stationed behind the door, poised to attack anyone who should try to force entry, she smiles, grateful for his protectiveness, even if he as a bit overly wary. She watches the exchange between the small man and her son, and sighs, suddenly feeling quite sad; although she didn't fully understand why. Moving away from the fire to sit down on the bed beside her son, she draws the boy close and wraps the blankets around him. Singing a lullaby for him, her sweet words and voice fill the air as she rocks the child back to sleep. Stroking the fine hair back from his face with a loving touch, as his head finally hits the pillow, Wraith tucks the blankets around him again. Sighing despondently, the weight of what troubles her, falls heavily upon her shoulders. Tears gather in her eyes, and slide down her cheeks. "He trusts you, doesn't he, Hal?" She whispers at length through her tears, beginning to wonder - and fear - what might happen to Aerin now that it appeared he was bonding with their benefactor. If that were true, what would happen to the troubled boy if Hilathic disappeared, or worse? Would it inhibit his recovery? She frowns, wondering if she should put a stop to this now, for her son's sake, before either of them became too attached. Turning away from her child to glance at the small man, she whispers. "What can I do to make his life safe and secure again?" |
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 25, 2008 15:51:40 GMT -5
"Once we have a few answers from Marrek, we should be able to devise a plan. We must know what your attackers where truly trying to accomplish by unleashing these horrors on you and Aerin. Until we have these answers we can not plot a course of action against the Cult."
Hilathic looks to Aerin, where he is laying asleep and then back to Wraith. "I think knowing Aerin, has strengthened my resolve to see this through to the end more then anything else. I am not normally one to put my life in so great of danger, for any cause." Hilathic confides in Wraith, a vulnerability he has not shown anyone before. Caught in a world of cruelty and lies, his human side had been buried very deeply for a very long time.
"I very much wish for my life to change now that I have seen the love a mother can have for her son." Though Hilathic's eyes well with tears, no tears run down his gaunt face.
"I should go while it is still dark." Hilathic says abruptly and moves for the door.
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 26, 2008 0:54:00 GMT -5
"Once we have a few answers from Marrek, we should be able to devise a plan. We must know what your attackers where truly trying to accomplish by unleashing these horrors on you and Aerin. Until we have these answers we can not plot a course of action against the Cult."Hilathic looks to Aerin, where he is laying asleep and then back to Wraith. "I think knowing Aerin, has strengthened my resolve to see this through to the end more then anything else. I am not normally one to put my life in so great of danger, for any cause." Hilathic confides in Wraith, a vulnerability he has not shown anyone before. Caught in a world of cruelty and lies, his human side had been buried very deeply for a very long time. "I very much wish for my life to change now that I have seen the love a mother can have for her son." Though Hilathic's eyes well with tears, no tears run down his gaunt face. "I should go while it is still dark." Hilathic says abruptly and moves for the door. Wraith moves to intervene, blocking the doorway should the small man try to leave. Her eyes are wide, frantic even. Her bosom rises and falls beneath her thin cotton nightgown with each ragged breath. The haunted woman can scarcely control the desperation that creeps into her voice. "No, please, stay a while longer, Hal. I-I don't want to be left alone. Not after a dream like that." She searches his face with with wide, pleading eyes. Tears gather in her eyes again, and roll down her cheeks. "I know good judgement says I should let you leave - and it's probably best that we go our separate ways - but I also know that there is safety and strength in numbers. I've lived in the Cage all my life, so I know how dangerous this city can be.
You might feel at ease skulking about in the dark on your own, Hal. Maybe you feel that your heritage will protect you. But believe me, it won't; and even if it does, it won't for long. Have you any idea how many fiendlings I've embalmed or sent off to the Crematorium in years gone by? More than I care to count." Realising that she is on the brink of hysteria, Wraith forces herself to remain calm and objective, despite the sinking dread that settles in the pit of her stomach. Her voice breaks, and the tears fall like thin, clear rivers of amber. "Please don't be one of them. I couldn't bear to bury you. Not when you've done so much for me and my son. Not when you're one of the few people I trust, and would dare to call a friend. Not when you're one of the few who may be my son's salvation." |
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on May 27, 2008 0:19:57 GMT -5
Using his thumb to wipe a tear from her face, "You are not alone. You have Aerin. And I will be near. It is just safer for all of us if I leave now." Hilathic had to flee his feelings, his feelings of weakness for Uathach and Aerin. Every tear she shed made Hilathic want to be near her, comfort her, and to help her. Yet part of him also wanted to lash out at her and strike her, tell her she is a Tanar'ri and there was no place for weakness for her. The conflict inside him raged, yet he supressed it hopinh she would just let him go. He had to go. His tail could be heard swishing nervously under the tunic, back and forth.
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on May 28, 2008 3:25:53 GMT -5
Using his thumb to wipe a tear from her face, "You are not alone. You have Aerin. And I will be near. It is just safer for all of us if I leave now." Hilathic had to flee his feelings, his feelings of weakness for Uathach and Aerin. Every tear she shed made Hilathic want to be near her, comfort her, and to help her. Yet part of him also wanted to lash out at her and strike her, tell her she is a Tanar'ri and there was no place for weakness for her. The conflict inside him raged, yet he supressed it hopinh she would just let him go. He had to go. His tail could be heard swishing nervously under the tunic, back and forth. Wraith trembles as Hilathic reaches out to wipe away a tear drop that slides down her face. She feels so pitiful and wretched, crying in front of a man who was more Tanar'ri than she would ever be, no matter who he claimed her sire was. But unlike him she wasn't one to stifle her emotions - at least she only ever did when the Dead were around - and now was no exception. "Hal..." She moans pitifully. "Don't go. I don't want you to leave yet. Please. At least-at least stay until the day brightens." It was a losing battle. She could see the conflict in his eyes, sensed his restlessness, heard the whip-like swishing of his tail, and knew that remaining here was stifling him. But against all better judgement, and the sinking feeling that gnawed away at her insides, she couldn't: she couldn't let him leave yet. Atye, she knew she wasn't alone. She never truly had been alone, even when she felt that way. She had her son back now, who was more important than anything and anyone else. Then there was Hadrian, another dear friend who had helped her in her times of need. And once, long before Aerin - before any of her friends - came into life, when the crushing burden of despair weight heavily upon her shoulders, she found solace in solitude with her music. But now something had changed. Call it dependancy, obsession, or something more... but she'd attached herself to Hilathic whether she dared accept it or not. Wraith sensed she had a true friend - a kindred spirit - she could lean on, depend on, and now he was about to walk out on her. Her sad, watering purple eyes search the tiefling's face for any kind of sympathy or understanding, hoping in vain that he would remain. "Please, Hilathic." She begs a final time. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch his shoulder or his face, so he'd know how much she needed him to remain. But she just lets her hands hang limply by her sides. [ooc @ Hilathic: Your last post left plenty for me to work with, to create [what I hope is] an emotionally powerful scene.  ] |
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on Jul 2, 2008 17:21:33 GMT -5
"I... I want to stay. But I am afraid." Hilathic's bony frame hardens noticeably. "I was not raised to show my feelings. Showing ones feelings was meet with punishment. Disappointment. You wear your feelings out in the open, like some kind of treasure meant to be prized. I wish that I could do that. I must however hold my feelings in. Sadness. Caring. Love. Rage. I feel all these things right now and I feel as though my whole being will burst. Someday you will learn of all the horrible things I have done and you will not want me close to you. It is best I leave before this goes to far." Hilathic's body trembles as he speaks, whether he trembles fighting back tears or rage is hard to tell because his voice stays even and calm. His eyes never betray his true feelings as he looks Wraith directly in the eyes as he speaks. After a moment of Wraith staring him in the eyes, he takes her hands from her sides and holds them while lowering his gaze to the floor. "You would hate me. If you knew."
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Jul 3, 2008 0:16:57 GMT -5
"I... I want to stay. But I am afraid." Hilathic's bony frame hardens noticeably. "I was not raised to show my feelings. Showing ones feelings was meet with punishment. Disappointment. You wear your feelings out in the open, like some kind of treasure meant to be prized. I wish that I could do that. I must however hold my feelings in. Sadness. Caring. Love. Rage. I feel all these things right now and I feel as though my whole being will burst. Someday you will learn of all the horrible things I have done and you will not want me close to you. It is best I leave before this goes to far." Hilathic's body trembles as he speaks, whether he trembles fighting back tears or rage is hard to tell because his voice stays even and calm. His eyes never betray his true feelings as he looks Wraith directly in the eyes as he speaks. After a moment of Wraith staring him in the eyes, he takes her hands from her sides and holds them while lowering his gaze to the floor. "You would hate me. If you knew." Without thinking, without speaking, Wraith takes Hilathic into her arms and holds him close, like she would if she were cradling her own son. She cries softly again, and this time it isn't for her own loss and pain that she weeps. She cries for all the terrible things Hilathic must've endured, for the absence of any sympathy or love, and for this great suppressed hatred his mother must feel for him. Because why else would she find his existence so disappointing? Dropping to her knees, Wraith wordlessly draws Hilathic's head against her bony shoulder and begins to rock him gently. She hums as she rocks him like a baby, probably because he'd been starved of affection for his whole life. She didn't know why, but it seemed right to do this. She'd cared for others for so long, often at some expense to herself, that caring was in her nature. She couldn't help but want to nurture others, to alleviate their suffering, ease their sickness and soothe away the pain. Not only that but she realised then that she needed to do this, and not just because she was such a gentle and nurturing individual. She needed to show him she cared, and would continue to care, no matter what he'd done in his past. Because if what he'd said was true, he wasn't being himself. He was acting at her behest, not with his own heart. Most children would do anything to please their parents, no matter how difficult or terrible the task seemed. At least, that's what she thought, and she had fast begun to realise that her understanding of life and everything in it was severely limited. Wraith frowns as she strokes Hilathic's head, and whispers softly; "I care not what you have done before, Hilathic, because you have shown me nothing short of a man willing to help someone he barely knows." Very gently she kisses his forehead and smiles in spite of her tears. "Past deeds need not always shape the present and colour our futures. We alone can change that if we do not like the past we left behind. I know because this... is something I've had to learn in recent weeks." She sighs, and stares at the closed door. "My father hated me. My adopted father, that is. I sickened him, in fact, because I was nothing like what he wanted me to be. He would call me weak-willed and useless, because I didn't have the stomach for punishment. He would... whip me on those occassions when he felt I'd disobeyed him too terribly for harsh words. Even though I did no wrong, except to be me, a person who loved too much for my own good... a person who hated this life where so many were allowed to suffer, starve or die needlessly. That isn't truth. It's madness." Wraith is rambling and she knows it. Sighing in disappointment - she just can't find the words to truly express herself - instead she settles for just showing him and falls silent again. Running her pale, scarred hand over his brow, Wraith hums again and starts to sing. It's an obscure little children's verse, a mishmash of other well known lullabys thrown together by the orphans of the Hive. Perhaps because it was a reflection of their own haphazard lives. |
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on Jul 4, 2008 0:14:54 GMT -5
"I do not think you are weak." Looking to Aerin, "I think you and Aerin are strong, and you will get through this."
|
|
|
|
Post by Uathach Blackmantle on Jul 7, 2008 0:01:44 GMT -5
"I do not think you are weak." Looking to Aerin, "I think you and Aerin are strong, and you will get through this." She sighs at length. Though she doesn't release Hilathic just yet. "So you will remain with us?" She hesitates, suddenly sounding very uncertain of herself. She was treading thin ice here. One slip up, one misplaced word said, and he'd bolt, and she may never see him again. Though she knew she'd recover in time, Aerin would not. His mind was already shattered. He didn't need Hilathic walking out on them now to make things worse. Wraith knew she'd never forgive herself for that. |
|
|
|
Post by hilathic on Jul 7, 2008 4:53:45 GMT -5
"Aye. I will stay a bit longer." Hilathic gives into her will and allows her to hold him.
|
|
]